200 years
by AceOfSpades22
Summary: After 200 years of only diplomatic, forced conversations... Can Antonio fin it in his heart to forgive Arthur... And does Arthur really even want the Spaniard's comforting words? One-Shot, nothing overly lemony, just beautiful, angsty words.


I don't own Hetalia! I wish I did... But I don't!

It wasn't often the two spoke anymore. It wasn't often either one wanted to relive the countless memories of their days as the bitterest of enemies, the most passionate of lovers... the most complicated, dark, hopelessly desperate couple in existence. Yet, it was every day they reminisced about the other, about the best, and worst encounters with each other. A battle on the high seas, ships dangerously close to each other, the sun high, the salty sea breeze caressing their sweat covered bodies as they battled, ax against sword. Nights of captivity for a broken Spaniard after the fall of his Armada... A fall caused by British hands. The worst form of betrayal. Not that, if their previous encounters had been viewed from the outside, anyone would have been able to begin to imagine the strength of the passion that burned inside them both, dark and dangerous like the sea in which the sailed. No. It wasn't often they talked. One too wrapped up in his pain at his collapse, the other craving the affection of the man he had destroyed. Yet... Here they were, hesitantly, warily, almost fearfully regarding the other.

It had been just shy of two centuries since the two had spoken outside of the required diplomacies. Ever since the Treaty of London had been forced upon the Spaniards by the ever strengthening British Empire, the two had avoided each other. The time when Antonio had hated but needed Arthur the most, and yet the time they couldn't bare to be alone together. Now the roles were switched. Arthur was the one in need of someone. In need of love, of affection, of sweet nothings in his ear and battle calloused hands against his cheek.

Something broke inside of Arthur after sitting in silence for countless hours, and before he could stop it, he caved in around himself with a desperate, choked sob. He felt destroyed, betrayed, hurt... Much like Antonio had all those years ago. It felt like fate's cruel, twisted sense of humor had created a chillingly familiar scenario with Britain being all but forced to sign the Treaty of Paris. A treaty of peace, or a betrayal of a deep rooted trust? "I understand..." He choked out, startling Antonio as he spoke in his English accented voice, the words sounding contorted with grief and agony. It sent a spike of pain through Antonio's heart. His sense of dedication to the man before him, buried after so many years of hatred and pain, welled up inside him, fluttering about with the need to get out and embrace the shell of the pirate before him.

_Amigo... Arthur... You couldn't understand... Alfred leaving you isn't nearly the same as what you did to me... _Antonio thought, his tanned, scarred arms half extended as he argued with himself on whether to give in and comfort the man he had loved once before. His brain told him it was what he needed to do, but his heart as afraid of breaking again. "...Lo siento... Arthur." The words felt forced and dry in his mouth, sounding too close to the scripted conversations they had been given at each meeting. He hadn't been the only one to think so, for Arthur turned away bitterly and curled around himself further, his entire frame wracked with violent, shuddering sobs. Battling against his screaming heart, Antonio gently snaked his arms around Arthur's waist. After what seemed like a life time, having this man in his arms again felt so right and yet so wrong. So much had passed since the last time they had touched like this. Too much? That was a possibility, seeing as instead of relaxing and leaning into Antonio's soothing warmth, Arthur bristled and tensed, both wanting so bad for things to be as they had, but also wanting badly to be able to pull away. "... Don't..." Antonio begged in a pained whisper, knowing exactly what the British man was thinking. "Don't pull away... Por favor... I remember what betrayal feels like... Just let me comfort you for tonight. Just... Let me hold you once more."

At his near silent plea. Arthur hesitantly leaned into the achingly familiar chest of his Spaniard. His Spaniard he had lost claim to. "Just for tonight... Because I need your love to make me forget the pain... Even if only for a few hours." He whispered shakily, trying hard to end the tears that streamed down his cheeks. He was shocked when warm lips brushed away the moisture from his cheeks and gently kissed first his right eyelid, and then his left. He kept is emerald eyes, dull from his grief, closed as those familiar lips traveled along his cheek bones slowly, leaving a trail of warmth behind them. It wasn't until he felt tears on his cheeks again, not his own, that he opened his eyes, though he instantly regretted the choice. He felt as though someone was viciously consuming his heart as he caught sight of Antonio's miserable, agonized eyes. He had thought... But that was foolish. Why would Antonio love him after all he had done to him? With a gasp of a new sort of hellish agony, the British man tried his hardest to pull away from Antonio. "If... You must pretend... I'd rather be alone."

At this Antonio recoiled, almost as though Arthur had burned him. His agonized eyes turned into orbs full of grief and anger. How dare the man accuse him, a still noble Spanish man, of pretending, when he himself was just wanting to use his love as a tool of comfort. "You haven't changed at all... ángel del infierno! Ripping me to shreds... I should have just let you suffer alone. I should not have dared try to come. Why would a moment of betrayal change your dead, blackened heart? You accuse me of pretending? I accuse you of wanting to use me... You don't care who shows you love... Cruel, sadistic demon craving affection and unable to show any in return... And you wonder why everybody leaves." His voice was broken and full of a renewed sense of long felt betrayal.

Arthur couldn't... wouldn't comprehend the stinging, vicious words that Antonio hurled at him. That wasn't what he had meant at all! Surely the Spaniard didn't think so little of him that he would actually believe Arthur didn't love him any longer! Even through the things he had been forced to do... He had always thought Antonio still believed in his love... That was why he had come to him tonight, knowing of his grieving and wanting to sooth the ache in his heart? No... The Brit must have been mistaken. Antonio could never forgive what he had done, wanting only to kick him while he was already down. "Anthony... That isn't... No that... That's not what I meant at all..." His voice was ragged, broken... Pleading with Antonio to listen. "I love you Antonio... I love you so much..." The Spaniard just wouldn't listen, causing Arthur to all but wail internally at the lose. "I'm sorry..."

"How... Do you... I just don't understand how you think I'd pretend... I have never... I've never been anything but loving to you, not even when we'd fight... I just... I should go." Antonio whispered, his voice agonized as he got up off Arthur's bed, springs squeaking softly, and headed towards his door, black in the darkness of the room, only to freeze with uncertainty as a shaky but firm hand clamped around his arm in a desperate hold. Uncertain, destroyed emerald eyes turned to meet desperate, pleading jade ones.

"Love... You have to listen to me... You... I... I thought you... Were pretending because of your tears..." Arthur's voice was no more than a whisper, a mere breath of air. His jade green eyes, usually so reserved and full of a soft amusement, bore into Antonio's with an intense hunger, so full of terrified panic Antonio hesitantly returned to his side, heart pounding thunderously in his hollow chest. "Look... I'm sorry I.. broke your heart.. I'm sorry I betrayed you... I'm sorry I brought about the fall of the Spanish Armada... I'm sorry love... I'm so so sorry..." His voice cracked painfully and his tears fell with a renewed vigor brought on by his two centuries too late apologies. He was certain Antonio would leave him forever after this. His one chance in nearly 200 years to fix things between them, and he had let the man believe he was merely using his love as a pick me up, a way to forget about his pain without any strings... Like a French whore. His brain was whirring furiously with his self degrading thoughts, it took him completely by surprise when shuddering, warm lips hovered just above his, brushing against the smaller blonde's with the barest of butterfly touches.

"I was more upset that you left me alone to suffer... I never was upset about... the fall... Just that you left me alone." Antonio's breath caressed Arthur's cheek as he spoke, feeling unfiltered, unrestricted love fill his veins for the first time since the collapse of his Armada at his Brit's apologies. The words were what he had been waiting for for all this time after all. He greedily pressed his lips against Arthur's then, lips colliding in a passionate kiss, the Spaniard drinking in the small noises his kiss and scent elicited from him, while Arthur clung to the tan, scarred man with such strong desperation that Antonio could taste it in their passionate exchange of saliva and emotion. He was startled at just how far buried, beneath his petty grudge,spawned by betrayal, his longing to indulge in simple pleasures, such as a kiss shared with this man, had been until he was already in the middle of the act, Arthur's longing mirroring his own.

It wasn't until they finally broke apart, breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, that Arthur chose to respond, looking sheepish and uncertain, though his eyes were alive with his passionate desire to kiss Antonio again... It had been so long... "I left... not because I didn't love you, but because I was afraid I had done something unforgivable to you, love... I didn't want to be around if I had to see hatred in your eyes every time I walked past... I just never realized the hatred was _because _I didn't stop... I'm sorry." He whispered in the same, breathy rasp as before. He smiled, despite the misery that had coursed through through his veins like a drug moments before, the expression hesitant with a faint, almost undetectable wobble. "I really do love you, Antonio... I always have..."

"I believe you." Antonio whispered back, emerald eyes soft with adoration blazing in their fiery depths. Lips clashed together again, this kiss not tainted or stained with any emotion save the two men's passionate love and burning, craving desire. A soft, low moan bloomed deep in the Spanish man's chest as Arthur's arms wrapped firmly around his neck, pale, slender fingers tangling in the sensitive chocolate hairs at the base of his skull. Seemingly on their own accord, Antonio's arms made their way around Arthur's waist and he pulled the smaller man close, closing all remaining distance between the two. His heart soared in pure, unimaginable joy as Arthur moaned his name softly, breathlessly as they broke away again, both trembling slightly in each other's arms. "I believe you..." He said again, voice not leaving any room for questions or doubt. "And I love you as well Iggy... Forever."

Arthur's heart all but exploded outward from his chest in a chaotic inferno of love, craving, and affection and slowly he brought his choppy blonde haired head down to rest against Antonio's sternum, listening intently to the sporadic, racing beating of the Spaniard's heart as it slowly slowly calmed in his chest. Before long he felt Antonio's rough, calloused hands, the hands he had so desperately wanted to feel holding him protectively close to his exotic smelling, muscled chest, rub his back soothingly, as he too calmed back down. A blissful laugh bubbled up to Arthur's lips, bell like and warm as his Antonio washed away his pain at being separated from his son in every way but blood, by the American's hand nonetheless. "I believe it, love" He all but cheered, voice unable to fully capture the sheer brilliance of his euphoria in being with Antonio like this after so long of a crushing loneliness.

It didn't take long in the content silence for both Antonio and Arthur to begin to doze, but it was Antonio who finally laid down against the all too familiar bed, complete with the same sea green comforter and black and sea green pillows, where shockingly enough, a lone red a silver pillow rested on what used to be his side of the bed. He contemplated his pillow curiously, baffled that it was in Arthur's bed in the proper spot, and as he slowly pulled Arthur down to lay across his chest, he pressed his lips to the smaller man's temple with a soft chuckle. "You really have missed me as much as I missed you amor..." He marveled, hugging his Arthur tight against his warm, cinnamon and spice scented chest.

Groggily, Arthur turned until he could meet Antonio's emerald green eyes, a sleepy, yawn split smile on his face. "You hated... when it was... m... moved. It's been waiting f... for your return... I've... b...been waiting..." He mumbled, words slurring together as his jade green eyes fluttered shut in his exhaustion, no longer willing to fight of the dreamy haze that was begging to shroud his mind. He was vaguely aware of a rumbling chuckle against his ear as Antonio laughed softly, and even less aware of the tomato tinted lips that pressed against the pale, smooth skin of his temple. By the time Antonio's lips were against his ear, he was hanging onto consciousness of the waking world by mere threads and the last thing that registered in his pleased, sleep surrendering mind, was something that set off the first happy dream he had had in almost 200 hundred years.

"Your's has been waiting for you as well mi amor~"


End file.
